


A World Without Muggles *Temporary Hiatus*

by xartixticx



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Child Abuse, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Hatred, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Morality, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xartixticx/pseuds/xartixticx
Summary: Tom gave up on the concept of love the moment he found out about his mother's death. He feels nothing but hatred for the woman, a powerful witch who let herself die. And his father, for being the filth that he is.When he first arrived at Hogwarts Tom wished nothing more than to be like the others in his house, pure and near-everlasting. Until he aimed higher, to be better than what they said his blood would never allow...When he meets the boy with eyes resembling a curse; knowledge and pain kept hidden behind an enchanted scar, and magic that seems to complement his own... Will he face his fear of death and learn to understand love, or continue to form the world his ancestors truly wanted?





	1. Temporary Hiatus

_THIS STORY IS_ _**NOT DISCONTINUED!** _

I originally went into this blind, and I realize I really need to plan out how everything is going to go. Don't worry, I'm currently working on it as you're reading this. When I come back, not only will this story be completed and ready to post on a fixed schedule, but it'll also be a much more rewarding book for both me to write - and you to read!

See you soon! ~ xartixticx

 

[P.S.]

If you like poetry follow me on Twitter.

Before the butterflies hibernate

to escape the chill,

of the vastly approaching winter.


	2. Salazar's Entry (Prologue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter so you know when I'm going to post next! (@xartixticx)

_Merlin was a wizard born and raised within the muggle world. He aided in the war by King Arthur’s side, until the man’s death. Afterward, he moved to this magical realm, causing many others to follow the path he left behind. This was when our world was first introduced to those we now call, Muggle-borns._

    Mudblood’s _will bring **ruin** to the meaning of true witchcraft and wizardry. They carry over their misconceptions and false beliefs._

_They call my house **dark** , full of creatures which devour the blood of others in order to live long lives!_

_Magic cannot be dark in nature, it is nature! We are powerful because we are not tainted with the blood of a mortal, not chained to the elements within our world._

_We live long lives, partially due to our practices? Yes, but our magic also subconsciously heals our internal being, in ways, theirs. do. **not**._

      _And because of our extensive lives, it's led to our extensive knowledge; we’ve built the foundation of which all wizards stand on today._

_My lineage has obtained the remarkable ability to communicate with dragons and other reptiles similar in nature. This talent, which can only be known by those of Slytherin blood, is what we call, Parseltongue._

_More each day I see the way they criticize us and our magic, towards how we treat illnesses. Then, there are their outcries against creatures, merely due to their “frightening” appearance._

_Those within Godric and Helga’s houses have started to refer to themselves as lighter, kinder, and more deserving than those within Rowena’s and my own._  

_Life in the castle has started to turn more competitive and I fear that the support we’ve spent years of dedication trying to build will crumble before my very eyes, taking the world’s magic along with it..._

_Rowena has grown sick, leaving her thoughts more on her stray daughter these moments, rather than her own house._  

 _Godric and Helga won’t listen to reason, they choose to remain ignorant to the damage the Mudbloods are causing us._  

_I don’t want to leave our life’s work; but they're leaving me no choice, I’d rather not witness the downfall that’s sure to become of our establishment._

 

_To my heir; I hope time bodes you well, and you're not in a world governed by muggles -how dreadful a place that would surely be._

_~ Salazar Slytherin_

 

 

 

 


	3. A New Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you returning, I've added dates to the chapters so you won't get lost in the timeline.

_\- August 23rd, 1938 -_  

 

    Harry watched as people passed him by without a second glance; his ruffed up appearance and baggy clothes lumped him instantly with the other rugrats living on the streets. He felt uncomfortable being out in the open but at the same time, the breath of fresh air and the sounds around him made him more at ease than when he was living with the Dursley’s. He never wanted to go back to that prison again. It was only a few hours ago - mere moments before sunrise - that he found an opening to escape, and without much thought, he found himself taking it. He knew they wouldn’t look for him, at least by the way they’ve treated him for the past twelve years… He hopes they aren’t looking for him.

 

    He felt the rough stone and stray pebbles stab beneath his feet as he started to walk again, in a random direction. The sun was warm against his skin and the shrubs plastered along the streets were growing yellow flowers. The scent of coconut was wafted in his direction by the breeze, jogging his memory of a small pamphlet filled with pictures of flowers, ‘ _Gorse was the name for these_ ’ he thinks. Everything he felt and saw around him was amazing! What he read in books and saw from the few glances he took outside, didn’t compare to the actual experience he has right now.

 

    The Dursleys always kept him at the house, acting as their personal slave, telling everyone that he was being homeschooled with a trusted teacher. It didn’t show favoritism or ruin their perfect image to those outside because it showed wealth. Dudley happily saying that he ‘likes meeting new people’ just makes it worse. How dare he have the gall to say that the academy’s environment is better suited for _him!_

 

    Distracted in his thoughts Harry didn’t notice the way the air surrounding him shifted unnaturally, nor how the flowers beside him began to emit a soft _pop_ all at once, the sound was hidden discreetly under the chirps of birds and murmurs of those on the street. Like an illusion, he passed right through the thickest of barriers. A sudden rush of sound hits his ears and for a moment, all he sees is black.

 

**_‘Pop’_ **

 

    He hears them now but the scent has turned foul, it reminds him of the rabbit a mile back, decomposing on the sidewalk... Once Harry regains his sight he wills down the urge to scream. The small groups of people walking the streets of a compact -and quiet village in Scotland, instantly turns into a large crowd surrounded by tall buildings! People wore long colorful robes and polished shoes that tapped and shifted above intricately designed cobblestone. There were people shouting out discounts to their stores, and many talking about their day to the person walking next to them. It was a shock and it had Harry frozen in place. Why were they all dressed so oddly? How in the world did he get here?!

 

    If Harry didn’t stand out before -he certainly did now. His simple, brown, worn out trousers and white shirt made him look practically naked in comparison to these people! A moment later of stumbling and getting pushed by the crowd, he soon found himself stood outside a bookstore called “Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.”

 

    “What's an Apothecary?” He muttered to himself, gaining the attention of someone who had just walked out of the store.

 

    “Why dis shop is where many wizards go to get ingredients for der potions of course, surely ye know dat seeing as yer a Hogwarts student, aye?”

 

    “Uh..” Harry stuttered. He’d only heard the Scottish accent a few times after he and the Dursleys moved here from London, so the foreign words threw him for a loop.

 

    ‘Hog _warts_ , is that a school? Who would name their school after a pig with moles?!’ He thought to himself.

 

    The words wizard and potions were also quite lost on Harry, was this woman alright? The confused and near disgusted look on Harry’s face caused the woman to pause and re-evaluate his appearance.

 

    “Are ye a muggle, what are ye doing out here all alone? Are ye here with yer family?” Her voice was stern which didn’t seem to match with her soft jovial accent and wavy brown hair.

 

    “Um, n-no, I was just walking down the street and somehow I ended up here.”

 

    The tension from her shoulders seemed to ease a bit at his words. “Well then, yer certainly no muggle if da’s dee case.”

 

    The look of confusion never left his face and the woman looked at the child before her in concern.

 

    “What’s a muggle? You also speak of wizards and potions as if their real...” The woman’s brows raised to the top of her hairline.

 

    “Are ye not from around here boy?” Harry shook his head causing the woman before him to mimic his face of confusion.

 

    “And, what street were ye walking on exactly?” He just shrugged, he hadn’t paid attention to the street names, there was no reason to.

 

    He wasn’t sure why, but when he met the woman’s eyes again he felt something close to a headache probing at his skull. The woman’s eyes widened she was only able to obtain a glimpse of the boy’s memory before his magic instinctively pushed her out… The street he was on was located  _miles_  from the border of Hogsmeade within the muggle world. She hadn’t heard of another gate besides the one within Leaky Cauldron, so...?

 

_‘How could a mere child, powerful enough to stop my legilimency, and somehow enter Hogsmeade through **thin air** instead of dee gate, not know anything ‘bout magic?’ _

 

    It was strange, something was still not right. He'd have to walk off the nearest path, onto the field, and into the ocean to reach the border of the island. As it was now -his oversized clothes weren't too muddy and were completely dry.

 

    “What’s yer name boy?”

 

    He hesitates, there’s that voice in the back of his mind that wonders if this woman might know or run into the Dursley’s, what would stop her from telling them where he is?

 

    He stalls in making a decision by asking her’s instead.

 

    “Only if I may get yours first.”

 

    The woman rose her brow as she stared consideringly into the boy’s green eyes.

 

    “Burke, Skyra Burke.” Her voice once again took on that cold tone as if protecting herself from any scrutiny that might be directed towards her.

 

    But all Harry did was blink, the curiosity and confusion never leaving his face, but he did seem to reach a final decision.

 

    “I’m Harry Potter” Her eyes widened a bit, not expecting the mysterious child to hold the name of such an old, _dead,_ and powerful lineage. Not to mention one from the _lighter_ houses at that.

 

    “And where exactly are yer parents Potter?” She spoke quietly, already knowing, but she wanted to test the boy’s knowledge.

 

    “I don’t know, dead maybe...” He didn’t look too affected, which means he definitely didn’t have much of a connection to them.

 

    Skyra sighed, this is not how she expected her day to go.

 

    “Well, I can tell ye one thing right now, magic is everywhere Harry. And I can prove it to yeh if ye’ll allow me the chance.” Skyra held out her hand, her voice lost its edge allowing warmth to shine through.

 

    At that, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. If he found her too crazy, well, he’d just have to make another run for it.

 

    He took her hand, pale, bony skin contrasting with squishy tan and his clothes brought some attention to the odd pairing as they walked down the street. Although, the lingering eyes seemed to be more interested in Skyra rather than Harry. As they walked, Harry found it difficult not to notice all the strange things happening around him. Floating signs, animals twice his size, and others that were quite strange looking. He also noticed people holding wooden sticks…

 

    “ _Are those wands?!_ ” He whispered causing Skyra to chuckle. He must’ve found himself in a long-lost witch cult or something, but this made no sense, wouldn’t someone have noticed this _huge, MAGICAL_ , city filled with people?!

 

    Through a particularly dark alley, she seems to notice Harry’s discomfort towards the onlookers and decides to address it.

 

    “Ye’ll realize very soon da’ one’s surname carries much weight, Harry, and yer’s happens to be very well known around here too.”

 

    He stops to look at the building stood in front of them “Borgin & **Burkes** ”

 

    “Are you saying you knew who my parents were?” He asked not taking his eyes off the signs.

 

    “Personally, no; howeva, yer father came from a very old and powerful line of wizards an’ witches. Pure in nature, of course, da’ was before he met yer mother.”

 

    Harry’s head snapped towards Skyra, this was more information than the Dursley’s had ever cared to share, that is, if this information is even accurate.

 

    “There was something wrong with my mother?”

 

    She paused for a moment, her eyes almost seemed to stare through Harry’s being until she looked away. Gesturing inside with a nod of her head, Harry followed her -a bit confused, but he didn’t say anything more.

 

    Harry was amazed by what he saw! Placed along the walls and tables were skulls, books, masks and variously sized vials -which he assumed held potions.

 

    “This is like something out of a fairytale.”

 

    Skyra chuckled “aye, dat's what dem mudbloods call biography nowadays.”

 

    Harry didn’t bother giving her a response, he’d settled hours ago with the fact that he might never understand her by this point, so what did it matter?

 

    He stuck to wandering around the shop, Skyra had walked into a room in the back, not expecting him to follow her as she waved her hands in a carefree manner, with a murmur he didn’t quite catch.

 

    He scoured for a few minutes until a peculiar book caught his eye.

 

_“The Nature of Magic.”_

 

    Harry grabbed the book without thinking, he felt drawn to it for some reason.

 

    “Now da’s interesting, Harry, can ye understand da’?”

 

    Harry almost jumped out of his skin, he hadn’t heard her come up behind him in the slightest.

 

    “I-It says ‘The Nature of Magic’ why?”

 

    She shifted her weight to the other leg, causing Harry to notice the stacks of papers and books she was now carrying.

 

    ‘Well dat’s very strange now isn’t it, No one who’s entered dis shop has been able to read it.”

 

    “Why not?”

 

    Skyra smirked, _‘dis boy is more than a wee bit interesting, I wonder how de Gaunts would react to dis one.’_

 

    “Because it's written in Parseltongue dearie, a language passed only through lineage and der’s only one family who currently speaks it.”

 

    “So one of my parents spoke it then?” His mouth ran faster than his mind, not wondering how, or why, she acquired the book in the first place.

 

    Skyra shook her head and took a seat at the nearest table, Harry chose the seat in front of her.

 

    “I’m afraid not sweetie, Yer mother was known as a born muggle and yer father a wizard from a long line of Gryffindors. Unless ye have Slytherin’s blood in ye body somewhere it should be near impossible for ye to read it, let alone speak.”

 

    “So, are you saying I’m a bastard?” The boy’s posture was calm and relaxed as he leaned slightly back into his chair, his eyes unwaveringly stared into her own.

 

    It was strange, he’d never felt this confident before… He’s never felt this _safe._ It felt nice, to be comfortable.

 

    “Well, I’m not entirely sure about da’ but looking at dis picture it’s no doubt yer der child, so, while it’s a possibility I don’ think it’s a high one.”

 

    She took a sheet of paper from the top of the stack, it read “The Daily Prophet”, it was from sixteen years ago. The couple in the photo were moving and that caused Harry to do a double take.

 

    “How is it doing that?”

 

    “Magic, Harry, dat’ll be the basic answer to nearly everything amazing of which you’ll encounter here.”

 

    Harry couldn’t believe his life, it's one thing to see magic from afar, but this, this showed him how truly real magic  _felt._

 

    As he held the paper he felt warmth emit from it like body heat. Looking at his parents for the first time in his life -the image played like a tape on repeat, the difference; however, was how clear and vibrant the photo was without the need of a screen.

 

    Skyra gave Harry a few moments of silence but when she saw his eyes begin to water she had to ask.

 

    “Harry, do ye have a home to back to?”

 

    He shook his head as memories of the Dursley’s mistreatment and harsh commands filtered through his head. What would it have been like if his parents had survived, would they have loved him?

 

    “I do all they ask and sometimes they still refuse to feed me. They yell at me… sometimes they beat me too.”

 

    Harry’s voice shook, his eyes still staring at the paper he laid on the transparent table. He didn’t know what caused him to trust her with this information but it was too late now. He missed the concern and anger that passed through Skyra’s facade.

 

    “Have ye ever done magic before today Harry, has anything strange ever occurred around you?”

 

    Harry shrugged nonchalantly, but the more he thought about it the more idiotic he felt, a lot started to make sense now. “Sometimes plates would hover in the air, one time I got mad and a few bulbs broke. They call me a freak for it.”

 

    Skyra shook her head in disagreement with his words. “ Ye’re anything _but_ a freak, what ye did was natural for a wizard under stress, it's called accidental magic.”

 

    Harry pursed his lips, it happened a _lot_ and Skyra could tell just by looking at him.

 

    She sighed, “Ye, can’t very well go back der, dat’s for sure.”

 

    Harry nodded he was ecstatic that someone, for once in his life, stood by him. When the bell at the front of the shop rang, a sharp round of cackles -he hadn't noticed when they entered, filtered throughout the shop, Skyra stood up.

 

    “There’s more articles and books here about yer family, if ye’d like to read them.” She pointed at the stack she laid down earlier.

 

    “Ye can stay here with me for now. I have a customer to tend to, try not to be too noticeable… We don’t always get the best of guests.”

 

    Harry nodded, a bit curious as to why that was before he continued to read...


	4. Leaving The Chamber

_\- June 30th, 1940 -_

 

    Tom set down the note and took a deep breath. The scent of dust, ink, and paper from Salazar’s Study filtered through his nose. He couldn’t help but agree with his ancestor, he felt disgusted towards his own weakness and mortality. Mudbloods like his father made this world - full of endless possibilities - into nothing more than a prison!

 

    Then there’s Dumbledore, an old fool who holds more influence than a single man should. How dare he believe shunning all blood magic behind lock and key was a wise decision? And just to placate a few mudbloods’ parents at that! The previous headmaster, Dippet, did nothing but follow every word that hung out of Dumbledore's mouth, it was absolutely disgusting! Just because the man shows the best chance of defeating Grindelwald doesn’t mean he, _himself_ , had everyone’s best interests in mind.

 

    Dumbledore wants control and he has no problems manipulating his students to be apart of his so-called “Order.” There’s no doubt in Tom’s mind that the old man has looked for this very chamber himself. It was by accident that Tom was able to find it, but he’s smart enough not to say anything outright.

 

    Least he gains  _more_ unwanted attention from Dumbledore.

 

   Tom will never understand the reason for the headmaster’s distrust towards him, he keeps asking himself. Was it because of his blood, his magic, his house? There’s no reason for the man to be so God damn wary of him! His anger caused the room to drop in temperature, the snake in his robes moved, waking from the lack of heat.

 

**_§ “Master?” §_ ** Nagini hissed.

 

**_**§** “Sorry.” § _**Tom spoke softly, it was quite funny really, there will never be a person in the world that could garner the same amount of care and attention of which he gives to his snake. All he needs is his knowledge and Nagini by his side. Those snot-nosed tossers who follow beneath him with nothing more than the word “love” stuck up their arses, are too blinded by fantasy to see how naturally cruel and twisted humans can be.

 

    Tom took in a deep breath as he folded the letter back into the neatly sealed envelope of which it came. ‘ _There’s no such thing as soulmates, or love._ ’ he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts…

 

_Because if there were, he’ll forever damn the deity that withheld it from him._

 

**_**§** “Master, it’s getting late.” §_ ** Nagini hissed, Tom didn’t understand how she was able to tell, but her sense of time was certainly useful.

 

   He gathered his books taking one last look at the study, he wouldn’t be back here for the next two months. He could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, the attacks on London were getting worse… He raised his head to take in the view of the high ceiling, a chandelier hung from it, lit with phoenix flames which never falter. The walls were dark green whilst the desk and chair were dark mahogany. He could feel the soft carpet beneath his porcelain feet as he had previously left his shoes near the entrance.

 

   The door, much like the ones used within the dorms, was a portrait of Salazar himself -yet the man refused to speak. His expressions did not seem to bode any ill intent by these actions so Tom chose to ignore this unfortunate quirk. Tom slowly strode across the room, plastered amongst the walls were silver snakes, their illusion seemed to move along with him. The tall shelves of books filled with _so_ _much_ blood magic that no one outside of the lineage has ever even heard of, stayed, enchanted, in their rightful place. This castle, this _room,_ was his safe haven. He’s explored and memorized its every crevice and yet, he only has three years left before he’s forced to leave it all behind. Whilst sliding on his shoes he could feel the blood rush to his face, and as easily as it was conjured, he willed the feeling of sorrow back down into the depths of which it came.

 

_**_§_** “_ ** _Subtle Resiliency_** _.”_ ** _§_** He hissed, in return, Salazar gave him a solemn nod as his portrait moved to the side and the stone wall separated, revealing the exit. Stood before Tom was a deep body of water, the basilisk protecting the entrance rose to the surface, providing its spine for him to cross in place of a bridge. The moment his feet touched the stone flooring he turned to watch the statue of Salazar close its mouth, hiding the study from plain sight.  

 

**_**§** “Goodbye, master.” §_ ** Tom gave the basilisk a small smile and nodded his head looking at it, but not directly into its eyes, Tom wasn’t stupid enough to risk the possibility of being petrified, even if the basilisk’s eyes were currently lidded to prevent him from harm.

 

**_**§** “I’ll see you in a few months, Mamor.” § _**The basilisk gave a tilt of its head before plunging back into the depths of the water. Tom strode through the chamber, passing the large statues of snakes as each one whispered into his ears.

 

_**_§_** “ _ **_The ignorant cannot wield power they do not seek_ ** _.”_ **_§_ **

 

**_**§** “Be cunning, for if not, your enemies are sure to overcome you.” §_ **

**__ **

**_**§** “Strength is the venom within the fangs… Before you hear the _ ** **hiss!”** **_§_ **

 

    The words stuck in Tom’s mind like it was a portion of his soul. Once he made his way out the chamber’s entrance and into the vacant bathroom he wandlessly used the Tergeo spell to clean off his robes. Just as he was about to leave he heard footsteps coming towards him, he hid behind the nearest wall as he waited for them to pass. The sounds were too heavy to come from a woman and each step was held with precision and purpose. Therefore it couldn’t be a Gryffindor nor a Hufflepuff student with the scuffle of their hasty and uncertain feet, that left one of the prefects, or a Professor?

 

    Fortunately, Tom was able to see the man as he passed by the doorway. He didn’t know why but the man seemed familiar, perhaps he’s seen the man’s picture before? He had curly brown hair, wore the colors of a Hufflepuff and carried a brown suitcase.

 

    A suitcase that seemed to rattle with a mind of its own.  

 

    Tom would've written it off without much thought if he hadn’t heard the faint sound of whispers. At first, he thought it sounded like a regular snake but then he noticed the lack of a hiss, replaced with something more like an underlying _roar?_...

 

**_~ “Take me home.”~_ **

 

    Tom stepped out of the shadows and into the hallway when the man made it a fair distance away from him. he watched just as the man turned the corner, through a corridor that leads straight to the Headmaster’s office.

 

**_**§** “Nagini, do you know what that was?_ ** **”** **_§_ **

 

**_**§** “A dragon my lord._ ** **”** **_§_ **

 

    Tom’s brows raised ever so slightly in shock. That man had a dragon inside his suitcase? Those beasts are said to be endangered, not to mention _extremely_ dangerous. Salazar’s books mention them on many occasions but Tom has never encountered a dragon outside of the one within Gringotts; however, that one didn’t seem like it could speak even if it wanted to. He suspects that the enchanted chain around its neck and the torture it went through over the years might have caused damage to its vocal chords. Tom wanted to follow and gain more information on the man but it was nearing curfew, and he still hasn’t packed.

 

    He has a tendency of putting that particular task off until the last possible moment. When he made it back into the Slytherin dormitory many of the students were still awake, fooling around on the last day until they were forced to get some rest.

 

    But all that would await Tom are nightmares.

 

    The room was unusually loud when Tom walked in, and only a handful of the students were crowding the common room. Malfoy walked up to him with a smirk on his face. His usually meticulous attire was slightly disheveled and his hair was without its sickening amount of gel. Tom rose a brown in inquiry which prompted the boy to speak.

 

    “Where have you been Tom, recently you’ve started disappearing on us mate! Find a lover we don’t know about, hmmm?”

 

    Tom’s eyes narrowed at the blatant amount of disrespect being thrown at him. He had half in mind to curse the git right then and there but the foul odor coming from the boy’s breath caused him to pause. Tom looked for the prefects in disbelief but they were nowhere to be found.

 

    “Where are the prefects Malfoy?”

 

    Lucius shrugged, “Dumble- _bore_ called Blaise and Walburga to his office _hours_ _ago_ , along with all the other prefects! _So_ , we figured what better time than now to get drunk!”

 

   Riddle pinched his nose, partially due to the smell and mostly due to the fact that he didn’t need alcohol to get a headache just from listening to Malfoy talk. Pulling out his wand he got rid of all the fire whiskey in the vicinity causing loud murmurs of complaints to echo throughout the room.

 

    “Awe come on Riddle, don’t be such a stick in the arse!” Tom sent Lucius a murderous glare, the room was now below freezing, the glasses in their hands turned cold with frost as his anger spiked.

 

    “I didn’t waste my time gaining points just for you lot to waste them, curfew is in three minutes. Clean this mess and head to your dorms before I report every legal wizard in this room to the prefects myself, for allowing _minors_ to drink in their presence!“

 

    Tom glared at every person in the room before landing his gaze on both Lucius and Lestrange, they both scrambled to get the empty glasses off the floor. Some of the Slytherins left out of his circle of Death Eaters started to complain, but when they saw that even the older students were moving without hesitation to his command, they began to rethink who they were speaking to.

 

    The moment everything was put away and in decent order they heard the entrance begin to open, causing everyone to sprint clumsily to their rooms. Tom quickly casted the Imperturbable Charm to muffle the sounds of the idiots stomping up the stairs and he used the force of his magic to keep the door stuck - just long enough for him and everyone else to make it out of sight.

 

   “What in the hell?” he heard Walburga say before her voice was blocked by the door he closed shut behind him.

 

    He noticed that Avery and Snape were already in their beds, they seemed to have been startled, perhaps awakened by the slamming of the doors in the hallway.

 

    At least someone decided not to be idiots tonight.

   

    Lucius flinched when Tom set his eyes back on him, looks like someone finally decided to sober up. “I-I didn't mean it m-my lord-” As much as Tom would love to hex the boy into excruciating amounts of pain, now wasn’t the time.

 

   “Shut up and sleep before Zambini checks the rooms you twat!”

   

    Unfortunately, with Dippet’s passing last year Dumbledore was now in charge. Making the rules stricter and thus more difficult than ever for Tom to sneak out to the chambers. Tom laid in his bed, the closest to the wall, it was picked with the knowledge that he’d be able to see the front door and the others sleeping in the beds beside him. A moment later and the sound of the door creaking open before it was once again shut was all they needed to hear before they opened their eyes again.

   

    Avery huffed out a sigh “First they take the curtains from our beds now routine check-ups? Last I checked Grindelwald wasn’t a student here.”

 

    Snape rolled over to face the dark blonde. “After the mysterious way Dippet died, I wouldn’t be surprised if his death held some kind of connection to the war.” Snape yawned and the others nodded their agreements in silence before drifting off to sleep. Tom laid awake until morning, he packed his bags at dawn and left for the common room as the others slept a few hours longer. He tried to read one of the books on the shelves as he waited for the others to awaken, so they could leave for the train. His eyes stayed still on the same page, not focusing on the words as he thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore a month prior. Unlike the first time he had asked, Dumbledore now has the power to allow him to stay over the summer. But it was still the same answer as before, ‘no’, with little to no explanation as to _why!_

 

    The moment the other students were up and the clock stroke ten Tom snapped the book shut, placing it back on the shelf before levitating his bags behind him with a flick of his wand. He took in a calming breath before striding out of the common room - and the castle - with an aura of competence and superiority surrounding him, a sense of poise that even pure-bloods can find hard to achieve.

 

    Dumbledore be damned, he’s not dying this summer.


End file.
